


Just As You Are

by Kimberlytiny



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Love, M/M, castle - Freeform, prince!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 22:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7241596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimberlytiny/pseuds/Kimberlytiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written based off of the song Unconditionally by Katy Perry for a writing challenge. </p><p>Dean didn’t know it at the time but the center of his world would soon change. What seemed the most important at the time would quickly become what he cared the least about. This all started on a fairly miserable day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just As You Are

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Sooo, I’ve never written this much before, totally didn’t intend to but felt like I needed to for the prompt so I’m sorry if this seems rushed or if somethings don’t add up. I tried my best to edit as best I could. Hope you guys enjoy ^-^

Dean didn’t know it at the time but the center of his world would soon change. What seemed the most important at the time would quickly become what he cared the least about. This all started on a fairly miserable day. Although the sun blanketed the earth in warm light and the sky gleamed a vibrant blue, nothing could make him consider this day good.

On a balcony that protruded out into the ward of the castle, Dean, his younger brother Sam, and his father, King John of Cerelia, stood front and center as his father addressed the crowd below. “This is what becomes of those who disobey the law!” King John proclaimed to the people. “Sorcerers and sorceress’s alike are evil and will us harm. They are not one of us and anyone who is caught harboring such people is also against us.” Today was a "special" day, according to his father who always referred to executions as such. This was also the only time people from outside the castle were allowed inside the walls. Not that anyone wanted to be there. Cerelia was known for their increasing number of executions per month. They were also one of the few towns that executed anyone suspected of using any kind of magic.

A wooden scaffolding was placed below in the open green space before the people. A woman, screaming, and crying, stood on the platform. Next to her was a man. Face stern, showing no emotion. On both sides of the scaffolding stood a pair of guards, each dressed in full body armor bearing the Cerelian coat of arms, showing a black raven with its wings fully extended as if ready to take flight. “As many of you have seen from the times before,” the King continued, “We will now begin the execution.” He turned to a man cloaked head to toe in all black. “Commence the execution.”

With only the cries of the woman and the heavy thud of the executioner’s laden boots on the wood to be heard, all else was silent. At the sight of the giant ax that he held in both hands, the woman became hysterical, attempting to run off the platform. Two guards managed to grab her, holding her firmly in their grips. Ignoring the woman, the executioner passed her and stopped at the man. Two more guards forced the man on his knees, pushing his head over a woven basket. Lifting the ax over his head, the executioner uttered a phrase. “May God have mercy on your soul.” He said as he swiftly brought the ax down. A collective gasp came from the crowd as the blade sliced through the man’s neck, his head falling into the basket as blood poured over the wood. The king nodded once more, cueing the executioner to continue. He walked over to the woman as the guards then forced her on her knees, shaking her head over the basket, repeating no, over and over. Ignoring her cries and pleas, he lifted the ax, uttered the same words, and just as before, the blade came down on her.

“Let this be a reminder to you all.” King John spoke. “This is what awaits those who betray the kingdom and ignore the law of Cerelia. Do not fall under the impurity of evil.” John took a step back and turned away from the crowd, heading back inside the castle; the prince's following suit.

Dean, saying nothing once the execution was finished, turned down the first hall, opposite the direction his father was headed. “And where do you think you are going?” Said the King. “You have work to finish Dean.”

Dean stopped in the hallway, his back to his father. “I’ll finish it in my room.” He said stiffly and continued down the stone hallway.

This was the second execution this week. Dean hated them. He loved his father but no matter the cause he couldn’t bring himself to accept the things he did. It was days like this that took a toll on him, feeling as if his life had no other possible outcome and his future rested in the hands of his father. He made his way down the gray stone hallways lined with large arched windows, decorated with golden ridges that matched the trimmings along the edge of the walls. Images flashed across his eyes with each blink. The ax rising, then falling. The sharp hacking sound rang throughout his head, as did the woman’s screams and constant begging that banged on his eardrums, not letting him forget.

Dean made it to his room where, like always, two guards stood posted outside the doors. “I have an enormous amount of work to finish.” He said to the guards. “I wish to be left alone for the rest of the day. Bother me and I’ll have to speak to my father.” He threatened. Of course, Dean didn’t actually mean any of it. This was only a tact to make sure they would check up on him.

Entering his room, he removed his clothing, switching out into a brown tunic and hood to cover his appearance, he hoisted himself over the ledge of his window and swiftly descended down the ivy. After what felt like forever, Dean had managed to leave the castle unseen from any guards. It was often that he left the castle without telling anyone. His father greatly forbade him from leaving the castle unannounced and without company, of course for his own safety, but that was partly due to his hatred for magic and the belief that he shouldn't be among those who's status didn't live up to his. Some days he walked through the castle. Taking into consideration that the castle was gargantuan, colossal arched windows lined with golden ridges, occupied practically every hallway. Intricately engraved patterns embellished the borders of doors and panels along the walls. Some hallways had alluring iron chandeliers that held tall candlesticks, others with empty suits of armor from long ago. It seemed like you could walk the castle forever and still not come upon every room or hidden passage there was. Dean had found quite a few hidden passageways on these walks of his. However, a walk through the castle wasn't enough to divert his attention from today's events.

Making his way through the town he headed to the forest that sat just on the outskirts of Cerelia. He was deep into the forest when he came upon a small pond surrounded by moss covered rocks and a large gangly tree that stood over it, canvased by a blanket of leaves that provided shade from the sun. Dean often came to the pond. It was calming here. With the weight of the throne on his shoulders, he found the silence and serenity of the area calming. Especially after his father.

King John was notorious for his executions, publically killing anyone he knew to be of magic; even if they were false. Dean knew why his father did what he did, but even he knew a line had to be drawn and executing every magical person went far beyond. This made John the most hated King, but with his infatuation, he was blind to the people of Cerelia.  
Dean laid under the tree resting on the soft grass, his hands brushing over it gently. The sun shone partly through the tree branches above him, a gentle warmth washing over. He stayed for as long as he could but knew that eventually he would have to go back. Dean knew if he was gone too long, his excuses could no longer be trusted. Just before he was about to get up, a twig snapped from behind. Dean jumped up instinctively, facing the direction the noise came in. A boy with disheveled brown hair and a light blue tunic stood on the opposite end of the pond. They stared at each other until Dean realized he had no reason to be on guard. It was just a peasant boy.

“Who are you?” He spoke more formally than he had meant to.

“Castiel.” The boy said meekly. He looked at Dean as if he had just seen a dragon.

“What?” Dean asked confused by his expression.

“Y-your, prince…” He stuttered.

“How did you-” Then Dean’s eye widened in realization, remembering he had removed his hood to lie down.

Castiel started to back away from the pond. Dean didn’t want to scare the boy, but he also didn’t want him telling anyone else that he had spotted the prince in the forest alone. If word filtered through town and got back to his father, he would indefinitely be guarded 24/7.

“No! Wait!” He yelled just as Castiel ran off deeper into the forest. Dean knew that his father’s reputation carried on to him. King John was spiteful, bitter, and malicious. However, Dean was none of these things.

Dean chased after him, running and jumping over logs, just barely dodging branches and thorny bushes in his way, until eventually he was close enough to grab the back of his shirt, putting himself in front of him so they could be face to face.

“Please-” They both began. “What?” The two said at the same time once again. They stared at one another waiting for the other to speak first. “I’ll go.” Dean said before Castiel could say anything. “You can’t tell anyone you saw me here.”

Castiel cocked his head at the prince. That was it? “That’s all?” Castiel didn’t know what possessed him to ask. He should have just left it.

“Well, yes.” He answered. “You won’t tell will you.”

“No, I won’t tell.” Castiel promised. “But-”

“But what!?” Dean jumped the gun when he spoke, clearly a little on edge.

“You’re hurting me.”

Dean realized he had been gripping tightly onto Castiel’s arm and let it go immediately. “Sorry!”

Castiel looked back at Dean, eyeing him suspiciously. Something was different about the prince. Compared to everything he had heard in the town, the prince was supposed to be selfish, hateful, and rude. But he was none of these things. “You’re not like your father are you?”

Dean chuckled lightly. “So that is why you ran.”

Cas averted his eyes in guilt.

“I understand. My father’s reputation has become my own.” He admitted. “He’s small-minded, callous, and lets the past consume him.”

“You don’t seem like that kind of person at all.” Castiel said truthfully.

Dean turned to him unexpectedly. He had never been told that before. The only people he ever talked to were those from within the castle. Hearing things like "one day you will walk in your father’s steps" or, "you’re just like your father." They were meant as praises but to him, they felt more like insults.

“That’s kind of you.” Dean smiled, though Castiel knew he must not hear that often. After what the town thought of him already, how could he? “What brought you this deep into the forest anyways?” Dean asked.

“I was wandering.” Castiel held up a brown sack he pulled from off the belt around his waist. “I come looking for certain plants. Sometimes I find ones I’ve never seen before.”

Dean looked at him impressively. “So you’re an herbalist then?”

“You could say that.” Castiel said. "What about you?” He asked in return. “How does a prince like you find time to relax in the forest?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I was escaping.” He admitted. Dean caught the surprised look on Castiel’s face and elaborated. “Only for a little bit. I come here to cool my head sometimes.”

Castiel nodded understandingly. He couldn’t imagine the pressure he must be under, especially considering how he and his father didn’t seem to see eye to eye.

They stood in silence for some time until Dean spoke. “I should go.” He said. “I ought to think someone is expecting me by now.”

“Yeah.” Castiel said.

“Castiel.” He stopped, thought for a second, then continued. “Think I’ll see you wandering the forest again sometime?” Dean looked at the boy hopeful.

“Only if you want me to.” Castiel answered honestly.

“Then perhaps I’ll see you the day after tomorrow. By the pond.” He smiled, then turned to leave.

Castiel watched as the prince headed back but called out before he got too far. “You can call me Cas.” He shouted. “…If you want.” He added.

Dean turned around. “See you later Cas.” He winked before running off.

Castiel could feel his face becoming hot, trying to stop intrusive thoughts that kept threatening to fill his mind. Never would he have believed that he would be falling for the prince of Cerelia.

Dean made it back to the castle undetected, climbing his way back up the ivy and into his window. The next day came and went, full of work and stress, Dean was more than ready to head back to the forest. After reassuring the guards that he need not be checked up on, he changed clothes and like every other time, escaped out the window and traveled along the outskirts of town, doing his best avoiding attention.

The sun was just setting as he came to the pond like planned. Castiel was already there, sitting against the tree. “Glad you could make it.” Dean addressed.  
Castiel turned around to see Dean standing on the other side of the pond. Light shone on him as if a piece of the sun itself had fallen from the sky. His dark blonde hair glowed fervently and his green eyes became emeralds in the light. Dean cleared his throat bringing Castiel back to his senses. “Everything all right?” He asked.  
“Huh? Oh! Yes, of course!” Castiel said a bit quickly, realizing he had been staring. He could feel his face get hot and turned so Dean couldn’t see. How pathetic. Someone like me falling for the prince. Castiel thought to himself. Dean came over and sat down next to him, their backs to the tree. He must have known something was up.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Castiel assured him with a smile.

Dean looked at him in the eyes saying nothing. Castiel could feel his heart beginning to beat against his chest so hard he thought it might burst. He couldn’t let Dean know how he felt. After all, he had only just met him the other day. What if he thought he was overly obsessive or weird? Not to mention, he was no fit for a prince like him. Castiel decided they were better off as friends, even though he had come to the conclusion himself, the thought made him a little sad and his smile faltered. Dean seemed to catch this.

“Okay Cas, what’s up?” He said a serious tone in his voice this time.

Castiel knew he wouldn’t be able to cover it up with "I’m fine" again and decided to come up with something else to say instead. “I didn’t think you would actually show up.” He admitted. Although what he said wasn’t the problem at hand, it also wasn’t a lie. Since when did it become a common thing for princes to ditch their duties in order to meet with a commoner such as himself?

Dean nodded his head understanding. “It’s because I’m royalty right?”

Castiel wouldn’t make eye contact but he nodded his head.

“Listen, you said it yourself. That I don’t seem like my father?” Dean reminded him. “And I'd like to believe that, so please believe me when I say that I would never dismiss someone just because of their status or who they are.” He promised, moving in front of Castiel forcing him to meet his eyes. “Trust me?”

Castiel couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, I trust you.”

They were silent for a moment, taking in the rising warmth of soon to be summer and sounds of birds chirping, owls hooting, and small creatures scurrying across the forest floor. Castiel could smell a delicate sweet scent being carried through the air; wildflowers, he noticed that grew from around the pond. He found it amazing that he never knew of such a place in the woods as peaceful as this until he met Dean.

Dean himself began noticing more about the forest that surrounded him. How the sunlight filtered through a thick canopy of trees, the shadows dancing to the soft whispers of the breeze. It was like being with someone made the things he never paid any mind to more apparent. Everything started to become a little more vibrant.

Castiel turned to Dean when he heard him laughing. “What?”

“Wanna hear something funny?” Dean said through fits of laughter.

“Sure.” Castiel smiled.

“Up in the castle, in one of the hallways, we have these full armor suits that just hang there, and so every once in a while I’ll slip into one and just stand there until someone comes down and once-” Dean laughed aloud, unable to finish, but Castiel was in too deep, beginning to laugh at Dean who couldn't seem to get a word out.

“Go on! Go on!” Castiel managed through bits of laughter.

“And once,” He continued. “Michael, an asshole of a knight,” He added. “Comes down walking right past me, so I whisper, Oh my Lord.” Dean imitated seductively.  
Castiel lost it, ultimately making Dean burst into laughter once again, though he kept on. “But then I grab his ass and he spins around making this face.” Dean crinkled his nose and furrowed his eyebrows, a mix of shock, and disgust written on his face. “He looked as if he smelt the inside of a stable. But-” Dean takes a breath, talking through fits of laughter, practically wheezing as he did. “But just before he leaves, I scream so loud, he drops to the floor screaming! He damn near pissed himself!” Dean and Castiel then both  
erupt into a roar of laughter, their stomachs aching as they try to calm themselves down.

“Is this something you do often?” Castiel asked grinning, happy he could get to know such a side of the prince.

“Only to Michael.” He admitted. Suddenly his tone changed when he turned to Castiel. “Cas, he really is an asshole.”

Castiel looked at Dean not quite sure how to answer. “Michael’s the one who exposes those who are of magic.” Dean explained, a kind of dismay washing over him.

Castiel’s face becomes solemn. Silent, he thought for a good minute before speaking again. “Dean, I need to show you something.”

“Show me what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Will you trust me?” Castiel asked almost as if he had something to be ashamed of. He held out his hand to Dean.

“Yes.” He said, placing his hand on top of Castiel’s without hesitation. Dean was curious. He watched as Castiel picked up a rock from the bank of the pond.

“This is going to hurt.” Castiel warned, looking to him for confirmation. “But only for a second.” He reassured.

Dean looked nervous, as to be expected, but Castiel felt as if he needed to do this. He didn’t want to have to hide from Dean and if Dean didn’t approve, then this would be it.  
Dean nodded, giving Castiel the go-ahead he needed. Before he could react, Castiel slashed the sharp edge of the rock swiftly, creating a small gash across his palm. Blood was beginning to dribble from the wound. Dean winced in pain. “Remember how you asked me if I was a herbalist?” He said repeating his words from the day before.

Dean only looked at him, wondering where he could be going with this but he kept his hand outstretched to Castiel, nonetheless. Holding Dean’s hand gently, he spoke softly. “Af ooss of nosm af roosey nols seynee.” With his free hand, he touched the cut at the utterance of the last word. Dean winced, but stared at him with wide eyes watching as his hand lit up brighter with every word. “Wafmoas ssafns rleyfoaseys ayasurrwrasa.” A burning sensation swept across his palm before a cold distinguished it. When Dean looked at his palm, the gash had disappeared, his skin white and smooth like nothing had happened.

Dean had no words to say. Nothing merely coherent was able to come from his lips. He simply stared at his hand trying to make sense of what happened before his eyes. Not that he didn’t understand what it was. It was magic, obviously, but for the first time up close, he saw it before him. Castiel looked to him for some kind of reassurance that he was okay but Dean stood there trying to come up with something to say. All he could manage was, “I-, just…” as his eye flicked between his now healed hand and Castiel. “You can do magic.” He said aloud as if saying it made it all the more real. He touched his palm where the cut was just seconds ago. No pain or scar. Incredible. He thought.

Dean scoffed, bewildered. An impressed grin spread across his face. “That’s not something you see every day.” Castiel eyed Dean cautiously. He had just revealed himself to the son of a king who killed anyone with newfound abilities such as his own. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Dean, he wouldn’t have exposed himself otherwise, but his relation to someone such as his father kept him on edge.

Castiel finally spoke, his voice quivering with each word. “I just…knowing how the kingdom is and your father…” Castiel stopped for a second, a forlorn expression on his face. “I don’t know if you should really be hanging around someone like me.” He spoke as if ashamed of himself.

Dean met his gaze. “Someone like you?” He repeated. “Cas, you’re a person who happens to have an amazing gift. That doesn’t make you a bad person. Forget what my father says. What makes you a bad person is when you use it for the wrong reasons.” Dean couldn’t stress this enough as he met Castiel eye to eye. “My father uses his powers for selfish reasons. He is not a good man, he’s a coward who merely looks to destroy everything he can’t stand to face.”

Castiel held his gaze. “So you don’t care that-that I’m like...this?”

“No, of course not!” Dean said maybe a little too loud. “It’s great!” He smiled, more than happy, now that the shock had begun to wear off. “You heal people!” Dean paused then spoke again. “I mean, more power to you right?” He said nonchalantly, an attempt to lighten the mood.

Castiel looked at Dean in disbelief that he would make such a terrible joke, but couldn’t help crack a smile.

“You know, I have some magic of my own.” Dean admitted.

“Really?” Castiel said, clearly unconvinced.

Dean stepped closer. “Let me show you.” Slow and steady he pressed his lips to Castiel’s, tasting the lingering sweetness of citrus as he did. Castiel’s body relaxed as Dean cupped his hand behind his neck bringing him closer.

Castiel knew immediately he was lost when he was met with the softness of his lips. Electricity raced through him at his touch and for a second he thought Dean might actually have magic.

It wasn’t until they parted that Dean realized how hard his heart had been beating; threatening to rip a hole through his chest. He looked at Castiel and decided then he didn’t want to stop seeing him. It was at that moment that they made a plan to meet every other day at the pond, just before sundown.

And so they did. Every other day they met and sat by the pond, indulging in each other’s company. It was throughout the month of June that they learned more about one another. Castiel sat in between Dean’s legs, taking the time to count each and every freckle scattered across his nose and cheek bones. Twenty-three. Dean told stories about what the castle was like and more about how he teased Michael, in which Castiel enjoyed more than Dean knew. Sometimes they laughed, other times they shared their pain. However, no matter the problem, Dean never let Castiel believe he was any less for who he was and Castiel always reminded Dean he didn’t have to become his father to rule the country, and even though it was never said between the two, they both wished for the day they didn’t have to hide from anyone.

One particular day, Dean presented Castiel with a small silver box, with a tiny crank on the side that when turned, would play a quiet melody. "This used to be my mothers." Dean started. The music box meant everything to him. His mother gave it to him when he was young, just before she passed, and whenever he felt scared or alone, the music would play and he would feel safe, believing his mother was there with him again. But now, Cas meant just as much to him as well. "She used to play this for me anytime I was scared, and well, I don't know. It helped me, so I just thought," Dean said, trying to find the right words. "If you ever feel like you don't matter, listen to this and know that to me, nothing else matters without you." Dean's face became stark red at his own words, but he meant every bit of it. Castiel took the music box in his hands, tears brimming his eyes, gladly accepting the gift, latching it onto the belt around his waist, along with the sack of herbs, and this time, it was him who pulled Dean into a kiss by the collar of his shirt.

Dean and Castiel continued to meet every other day leaving them the in-between days, which for Dean meant work and studying. Today was one of those days unfortunately to his dismay. He was in the study reading official documents and papers to better familiarize himself on the current state of affairs of neighboring countries around Cerelia and of the ones his father did and didn’t trust. It was a knock on the door that changed his focus. “Come in.” Dean responded. Daniel, one of the castle guards entered the room. “King John wishes to see you in the Great Chambers.” He spoke formally. Dean was rather surprised at the request. It wasn’t often that his father would call for him unless someone planned on visiting. Nonetheless, he got up from his desk and followed the young guard to the chamber where two more guards then opened a pair of huge brown wooden doors engraved with the Cerelia crest.

Walking in, he knew instantly something was wrong when he saw his father sitting in his chair at the front, Michael standing off to the side watching attentively, and a young boy down on his knees, his hand tied firmly behind with thick rope. It was impossible for Dean to miss the pale blue tunic the boy wore. It was Castiel.

“Glad you could make it.” His father said.

Dean looked at his father, trying not to show concern. “Father?”

“Hope I wasn’t interrupting your studies.”

Dean was growing irritant with the casual conversation his father was putting on. “Not at all.”

“Good to hear.” He said. “Now Dean, I don’t usually involve you in these things, but you’re on your way to becoming the next heir to the throne so I think it’s time you learn to take care of such nuisances.” His father said, eying Castiel.

Dean nodded in response. "What will I be doing?”

“Tomorrow evening I will have you lead the execution.” His father spoke proudly. “I think you’re ready.”

Dean felt as if an arrow had pierced his chest. No. Anything but this. Anything. “Yes, father.” He thought his throat might close up.

Castiel began to choke back tears. “Shut it!” His father roared. “We don’t need to hear anything from the likes of you. Your kind has done enough.”

King John turned to the guards that stood off to the side. “You two. Take the prisoner to his cell for the night.” He ordered with a wave of his hand in dismissal. "No food will be given. He won't be alive long enough for it to do him any good anyhow." He added.

“I’ll be on my way then.” Dean managed to keep a straight face as he left, leaving Castiel in the hands of the guards and went to his room. God knows how people like him are treated here at the castle. Many before Castiel suffered horrendous slanders and excessive abuse. Dean recalled a person in the past falling down the hard, cold, stone stairs to the dungeon. It was the thought of how he was probably being treated right now that made Dean fall to his knees, the reality of the situation setting in. He was going to do anything in his power to get him out of there and he was prepared to give up everything to do so. It had to be done before tomorrow. There was no time to panic or cry. Dean knew he had to pull himself together or else he would never see him again. And that wasn’t an option. In a matter of minutes, Dean came to a conclusion and decided it was final. He was going to leave Cerelia for good.

It was midnight when Dean decided it was time for him to go. At this time of night, the guards would be in the middle of rotating shifts so each post would be clear for him to get to the dungeons unseen. This was confirmed when he began by leaving his room and no guards where to be seen. Making his way through the castle, the door that led down to the dungeons was also unoccupied and swiftly Dean took his chance to slip in and make his way down, skipping steps as he did until he came to an abrupt stop just before colliding into Michael.

“I knew it.” Michael said, his arms crossed.

“Michael…” Dean didn’t know what to say until the realization hit him. “It was you!” He said getting enraged.

“Of course, it was me. I do have the highest rate when it comes to finding such people you know.” He bragged, a smug smile crossing his lips.

Dean was boiling with fury, his fists clenched at his sides. It took everything he had not to knock him right then and there. Part of it was because he blamed himself for not being more careful when it came to Castiel. If he had, they wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.

“What do you think will happen when the King finds out his own son had been keeping someone like him a secret?” Michael cocked his head in question, walking towards Dean. “Not only that but to go and fall in love with such a thing.” Michael and Dean came face to face, burning their eyes into one another. “And to think it would be with someone as disgusting as him. You should value yourself a little more, don't you think?”

Dean shot forward pinning Michael against the wall. He had had enough. He brought his hand up, smashing it against Michaels' cheek, bits of blood splattered from his mouth. Michael came back quickly with a jab to the gut, causing Dean to hunch over in pain, luckily he remained focused, just in time to see Michael's hand coming down at him. Dean caught his fist before it could hit him, twisting it and thrusting his arm back till he heard it pop. Michael screamed out in pain, using his free hand to grab Deans neck, digging his nails into him, breaking the skin. Dean held on to him with everything he had but as the hand around his neck tightened, he lost his grip. Michael broke free, slamming Dean to the wall. With his hands now free, he reached for something to his left. Dean noticed the shine of a blade as he pulled it out of his holster. In seconds, Michael had the knife pressed to his neck.

“Oh, Dean.” He smiled. Sweat dripping down his face as he inhaled sharply trying to catch his breath. “You know I can’t kill you.”

“Why? Because you’re a coward?” Dean spat.

Michael laughed. “You’re not mine to kill. I should leave you for your father.”

Dean wanted to believe his father wouldn’t kill him, but in all honestly, he couldn’t be positive his own father wouldn't turn against him. He stared into Michael’s eyes, knowing good and well he wasn’t about to let him go. Dean dropped his hands from Michael, letting the tension ease. "Then go get him." He said surrendering. Michael, who was taken aback by the sudden cry of defeat, loosened his grip unknowingly. This was his chance. Instantly Dean moved out from Michael’s grasp, grabbing the hand that held the knife and smashing it against the stone wall behind him. The knife slid across the ground, just feet away from where they stood. Instinctively, Dean shoved Michael to the floor behind him, lunging for the knife.

As he reached desperately for the knife, the tip of his fingers brushed the handle, falling short of the blade. Before he knew it, Michael was pulling him by the legs, further away from the knife as he too stumbled to gain balance and make a grab for it. Dean clutched the back of his shirt, squeezing tightly and rearing him back. Frantically, he flipped Michael onto his back, moving on top of him so he couldn't move, throwing one blow after another to his face. A fit of fury seemed to surge through Dean with every punch. The anger growing more as he thought of all the things Michael did and the trouble he had caused. “This.” Punch. “Is for.” Punch. “Everyone.” Punch. “You got." Punch. "Killed.” Punch. Deans' hands throbbed, his knuckles cracked with blood and an array of blue’s and purples colored his fists. It wasn’t until he calmed down that he noticed Michael had been out for some time. Blood pooled from his mouth, a massive bruise formed on either side of his face, along with an eye, now purple and swollen shut. He noticed his chest still rising and falling, though, very weak. Dean found it unfortunate he was still breathing, but it wasn’t in him to kill someone.

Slowly he moved off of Michael, regaining his balance. It wasn’t long before a distant voice came from down a hallway a little way down. Dean came to his senses, collected himself grabbing the keys off a hook in the wall and headed for the cells. “Cas?” He shouted down the darkened hallway. “Dean!” A faint voice called out. Dean ran to the voice stopping at a small dingy cell among the others to find Castiel gripping tightly to the rusted bars. Bruises littered his arms and face, dried blood matted the left side of his head. Dean fumbled with the keys until a click was heard and the cell swung open. Immediately he reached for Castiel, pulling him in and wrapping his arms tightly around him. Castiel whimpered but hung onto Dean never wanting to let go. Pulling back, Dean held his face in his hands assessing the injuries. “Cas I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Of course you’re not okay. What the hell did they do to you?” He begged for answers, talking a mile a minute. The thought of someone else touching him made him sick. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” Castiel said, holding onto Dean’s arms. Unfortunately, the reunion was cut short when a loud BANG! from above echoed throughout the dungeon. Shouts and footsteps could be heard throughout. More people were coming. "Damn it!" Dean cursed. “Michael must have told someone!” Castiel looked to Dean, panic in his eyes. Dean said nothing more but instead grabbed Castiel by the hand, running past the remaining cells. “Where are we going?”

“There’s another way out of here.” Dean led the way down, risking a look back to see the guards turning the corner in their direction. “The prisoners escaping!” One shouted as they charged after them.

Dean picked up speed, racing down the hallway with Castiel on his feet, turning right and left down another hallway, more dark and colder as they went down until they came up a small alcove filled with dusty shelves, drawers, and tables. The area seemed to be forgotten and cobwebs formed in between the furniture. “What is this?” Castiel asked. “Not really sure? Guess this was an area we used long ago. I found it one day…exploring…” Dean trailed off, focusing his attention on moving a large rickety bookshelf, revealing a few pieces of loose cobblestone underneath. Slipping his fingers through the rock he seized the edge of a large slab of stone, ripping it up from the foundation and hoisting it onto the floor next to him. A giant hole opened up in the floor, a ladder could be seen from the top. “You first.” Dean said to Castiel, ushering him down before him. Castiel obeyed, frantically making his way down the ladder soon followed by Dean. Just as he inched the cobblestone back into place, footsteps could be heard, the growing thud of their feet causing bits of rock to fall from the cave ceiling. Dean bent down, feeling around on the ground in the pitch black. It was around here somewhere. After a second, his hand hit something cold, hearing metal scratch against the rock. He picked up the object, fondling it until eventually light lit up a small portion of the cave just around them.

“Come on. We need to keep going.” Dean said, focused on getting out of there.

“Y-yea. Okay.” Replied Castiel hesitantly. He was beginning to have second thoughts. Dean was being dragged into a mess that wasn’t his and his whole life was going downhill because of it. How could he just throw away the crown, the castle, his future, all for him? The thought alone made his stomach ache, and he wondered how this could all be okay with him. He couldn’t let Dean give up everything for someone like him. It was then when Castiel opened his mouth to speak but the sudden blaring of bells diverted his attention as they rang throughout the cave.

“Shit!” Dean said, once more grabbing Castiel’s hand and pulling him along. “The whole town will be out for us!"

“I thought the everyone was against anything your father did?” He managed to ask through gasps of breath.

“Yea, well, death is a powerful motivator.” Dean answered truthfully.

The words ripped a hole in his chest. He couldn’t stand people dying for him. Innocent people, people he loved lived in this town. Most of the people he knew, ones that often came to him sick or wounded, didn’t even know the kind of healer he was. To them, he was a just a town doctor. He liked to keep it that way in fear that if he had ever been found out, they would have no relation to him in such ways. But now, everyone was a target.

By the time Castiel came back to his senses, they were already approaching the mouth of the cave. The bells becoming louder as they entered the forest. Castiel could see where the houses ended and the forest began. They must be just on the outskirts of Cerelia. The bells seemed to have aroused the whole town as the many voices of people confused as to what was going on could be heard in the distance, along with a command to take the prince alive and leave the boy for dead. This had to come from a knight giving an order, whom Dean presumed was atop a horse as their hooves pounded through the town in their direction. Dean knew they had to keep going. “We can’t stop here.” He said to Castiel softly, knowing how tired and scared he must be, but they couldn’t rest yet.

Castiel nodded, a sad look on his face but he kept quiet. Together the two walked farther into the forest than they had ever been, not daring to stop until the chatter of people and the galloping of hooves faded away.

Dawn was beginning to rise. They had been walking for hours. Their feet ached, stomachs empty, and neither had slept in over 24 hours. Dean noticed Castiel falling behind, but he wasn’t convinced they were far enough. He had the feeling they would never be far enough. Looking around at their surroundings, he noticed nothing but trees and grass in all directions. He knew Castiel wouldn’t be able to go much farther. After a few minutes, Dean stopped in his tracks. A large tree covered with vines that sprouted from the bottom to the top caught his attention. Veering to the right of where they were walking originally, he noticed the trunk of the tree sat atop a small hill, bellying out over an opening where the roots should be. “Here.” Dean led Castiel in, who followed without question. “We can rest.”

Castiel made it inside the burrow. It was small but just big enough for the two of them. Castiel took no time in lying down, resting his head on the soft soil and before he knew it, he was asleep. Dean too quickly followed suit, barely able to stay awake any longer. He just hoped they could finally get some rest without worry, and not much longer after Castiel, his eyes closed and his mind drifted off, sleep pulling him in.

Hours seemed to have gone by the time Dean awoke, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The air was hot and humid; the burrow apparently collecting heat rather than venting it. He stood up dusting the dirt off his clothes when he noticed Castiel was no longer next to him. Dean wasted no time getting up and checking outside just in case he had decided to find some water or food but saw no sign. “Cas!” He shouted into the forest. Nothing. His heart began to race through his chest as the worst thoughts swept through his mind. The thought of him being captured and executed intruded his thoughts and suddenly that was the only possible thing that could have happened. He had to get to Castiel and the only place he thought to look was the castle.

Dean ran, kicking up dirt as he did, shouting Castiel’s name along the way in hopes of a response, but like before, no answer. Dean slowed to a walk giving himself time to catch his breath. He looked around the forest for any sign of Castiel. It was the glint of silver from the corner of his eye that caught his attention. He turned sharply on his heel to the right just in time to see Castiel walking through the forest, directly on the path to the castle. “Cas!” Dean ran to him but once Castiel saw him, he took off. It wasn’t long before Dean caught up to Castiel. With a head start and Castiel still weak from the days before, he was easily able to grip Castiel by the shoulder but when he jerked away, Dean grabbed him by the arms, forcing him to stop.

“Let me go!” Castiel yelled, kicking and flailing to get out of Dean’s arms.

“No! What the hell are you doing!" Dean demanded.

"I'm turning myself in!" Castiel shouted, still trying to break free.

"Why would you do that!” Dean argued, baffled as to why he would do that.

"Because I don't deserve to live!" Castiel cried out.

"Huh?" Dean said, hoping he had heard wrong. Castiel tried once more to get out of Dean's arms but this time, he let him go.

“You can’t!-” Castiel’s voice cracked as he struggled to finish the sentence. “You can’t.” He fell to his knees sobbing. Tears poured down his cheeks as he hiccupped with each breath, trying hard to speak. Dean watched, taken aback by the sudden change. Castiel spoke again. “You can’t give up everything you’ve worked for.” Castiel managed to say. “Not for someone like me.” 

“Cas stop!-”

“No!” Castiel cut off. “I’m not like you! I’m a coward. My life doesn’t have any effect on people. I have this, this, ability and everyone’s disgusted by me.” Castiel dropped his face into his hands unable to look Dean in the eyes.

Dean got to his knees, his face going from sympathetic to serious, lifting his chin up, forcing Castiel to meet his gaze. What Dean saw were the eyes of a young boy who felt worthless and unimportant. “When will you get it through your head that I’m not leaving you! I will not let you go back! There’s nothing in this world I'd rather have than you!” Castiel began to cry. “You're the one who made me realize I didn't have to be like my father. You helped me to understand that I get to choose who I want to be.” He wiped a tear from his cheek. “Remember what I said.” Dean took the music box from Castiel belt and held it out for him to take. “Play this,” Dean turned the crank and the melodic music began to play. "And know that I'm always there for you. That I want to be there for you."

Castiel stared at the tiny music box in his hand, hanging on to every last bit of what Dean said. He let go of the music box letting it fall to the ground and jumped into Dean's arms, burying his head into the crook of Deans' neck. Dean held onto him with everything he had.

"I'm so sorry." Castiel whispered.

"Don't be." said Dean.

Castiel knew that with Dean he was safe and whatever happened next didn’t matter, but as the melody from the music box came to an end he knew everything would be okay.


End file.
